


Hypnos

by cosmicqueer



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: And then this happened, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Insomnia, Literal Sleeping Together, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, Nightmares, i just wanted to write about them braiding each other's hair, try again next time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 10:56:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11850135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicqueer/pseuds/cosmicqueer
Summary: There are nights when Leliana cannot will herself to sleep.There are mornings when Leliana cannot will herself to wake.





	Hypnos

**Author's Note:**

> i cannot believe i woke up and wrote this at 1:14am. prime gay hours

There are nights when Leliana cannot will herself to sleep.

The cold breeze from the window rustles the cloth of the curtains and grabs ahold of her by the back of the neck. It freezes the plains of her skin which do not meet the body of her lover beneath the quilt, the chill permeating her muscles. Each small noise rings in her ears as loud as a battlefield, her eyes ripping open to search the room for the mice scurrying in the walls, their feet on the wooden panels sounding more like the clanging metal of swords colliding.

As Leliana’s head thrashes against the pillows, Josephine murmurs in her sleep, delicate eyebrows creasing the bridge of her pointed nose. It lends the copper haired woman pause, and she breathes deeply to steady her heartbeat from the imaginary combat. The brunette’s arm constricts around Leliana’s ribcage, soft skin pressing closer. The feeling is as comforting as it is suffocating on evenings similar to these.

Navigating carefully, she removes herself from the loving touch. As her toes find the barren wasteland of the floorboards, the cold snatches away the remaining warmth from her bare body. She stands fully, sheets sliding back onto the mattress and slithering further into Josephine’s unconscious grip, hands searching sleepily for a missing companion. After lifting and kissing a limp pair of mahogany knuckles, then setting them back down, Leliana pads her way around the posters at the edge of the bed. She snags a forgotten blanket pooled on the floor to gather around her elbows as she approaches the open window.

A day bed sits nestled in the cut-out corner of their room underneath the large cut out. Leliana folds one leg underneath her frozen skeleton as she settles onto the cushion, tossing the stolen sheet over her exposed calf. Another gust of wind whispers against the drapes and in her ears, brushing her chin-length bob against her cheek like a lover. She reaches forward and past the curtains – which Josie insisted their quarters must have when designing the furnishings for Skyhold’s rooms, a thought that brings a soft yet shaky smile to Leliana’s mouth – and snags the edge of the window pane. Gently, as not to startle her partner, she pulls the creaking glass closed and secures the latch with a quiet click.

Leliana never knows quite how long she sits on those nights, looking out across the gardens, silent and unmoving, her mind a thunderous instrumental of crows’ wings flapping to their chorus of endless, screeching songs. The voices of the birds are but a crude mockery of the Chantry hymns she has ingrained along the inside of her mind. Their feathers never settle, a constant upward motion, beaks turned towards Andraste, begging for her forgiveness, until the touch of a smooth hand on her freckled shoulder jerks her away from the makeshift nest.

“Darling?” Josephine mumbles, touch firmer as the redhead turns to acknowledge her. She runs her manicured fingers down the pale arm and back up again, feeling the tension fade. “You should come back to bed.”

Leliana nods numbly, leaning into the touch. “I’m sorry I woke you.” She laments in a soft voice.

The ambassador huffs a tired laugh, “There’s nothing to apologize for. Come on.”

With a reassuring grip, Josephine leads the spymaster away from the glow of the night stars and back towards their shared mattress. At the first corner poster they part, the grooves of their fingertips sliding away reluctantly as they round their respective sides of the bed.

Leliana sits on the edge slowly, hands resting on her knees. While she removes the quilt from around her hips, she takes a series of steadying breathes as her partner climbs back into the snake’s den. Knowingly, she follows suit, the child inside of her afraid that the reptiles will slither inside her skull while she sleeps and infect her dreams. Josephine arranges the blankets around the two of them, bodies meshing together at the center. The sheets slide around them to the tune of the breeze’s hissing breath but she knows that the brunette will shield her until the sun climbs up into the sky.

She would trade anything for these nights to end sooner.

 

* * *

 

There are mornings when Leliana cannot will herself to wake.

The warmth that settles into her bones leaves her malleable, a paper cut out of a woman sinking deeper into the silken bedsheets in the morning light. Josephine’s fingers trace her spine, goosebumps rising in their wake, mountains in her flesh whose snowstorms send shivers up her neck. The ambassador’s velvety voice swathes her in comfort, whispered words against her hair pulling a grin at her chapped lips.

She groans and rolls over to face her lover, but it devolves into giggles and fluttering eyelashes as she is bombarded with kisses down the column of her neck. When their faces are level with one another, Josephine’s hands map the freckles on Leliana’s cheeks while the redhead stares in awe at the way the sun shines around her partner’s dark, curly hair like a halo. Before the woman can speak of plans for the day, she takes advantage of the playful moment to plant a kiss against the mole left of Josie’s mouth, and is rewarded with a delighted chuckle and a chaste press of their lips together.

“Good morning, love.” She greets in a husky tone.

Josephine taps her finger on her lover’s ivory nose. “Good morning to you as well.” She responds, voice just as clouded with sleep.

Though Leliana moves closer and slides herself into the other woman’s curves, and their kisses evolve into something wet and passionate, they both intuitively know they must extract themselves from a perfect morning spent under the blankets to tend to their duties. It proves difficult, but they retain enough self-control to wane their embrace to gentle fingers running through the knots in each other’s mussed hair and following the length of imperfect silhouettes.

Eventually, after what felt like not enough time in their own personal world, they finally untangle their limbs and sit up. Leliana stands and stretches her arms high above her head as Josephine gracefully tosses the sheets into a neat presentation. The brunette then turns to unlatch the window and push the pane open, welcoming the sounds of chirping birds and morning prayers to swirl into the room on a gentle wind. The spy master smiles, watching as the other woman pulls the doors of the wardrobe ajar and grabs at a garment. Leliana sidles up behind the brunette and peppers kisses along the tops of her sepia shoulders. Her arms snake around the curve of her partner’s hips.

Josephine giggles, refolding a floor length dress she had pulled out to inspect. “Hello there.”

“I can help, Josie.” Leliana offers, loosening her arms to allow the ambassador to turn around and face her. She looks down at the other woman and asks, “What clothes should I lay out?”

“I’m afraid your version of help will not get us dressed properly, love.” Josephine teases, cupping the freckled woman’s face in her hands and sharing a kiss through their smiles. “But, if you wouldn’t mind,” she adds as they pull away from one another, curling her fingers in short, ginger hair, “I would like to wear my new dress today, you remember? The white one I had shipped in from Antiva, with the golden accents?”

The redhead nods, “You look beautiful in that gown.”

“Oh, hush!” Josephine blushes, batting away the compliment.

“I mean it.” Leliana laughs. “You always look beautiful, Josie.”

As she searches the contents of their dresser for the outfit the ambassador had requested, the spy master pulls out a tunic to slip on under her chainmail and a worn, red scarf. Humming along with the tune of the Chantry sisters in the garden, Leliana slides into her undergarments and tugs her bodice up over the cotton slip. On the other side of the room, Josephine finishes tidying the papers and ink pots strewn across their desk and, once she notices her lover’s state of dress, ambles over to help tighten the chords of the corset.

Leliana finishes tugging her tunic and chainmail on before assisting the brunette with fitting her bodice as well, appreciating the way the chest piece accentuates her bust and flares her hips in the flowing fabric of the gown. Pale hands wander the hills and valleys of the long-drawn map of Josephine’s figure for a brief, wandering slide, before instead being led over to the now tidy vanity.

With the giddiness of young girls, they brush out one other’s hair and style it accordingly. While Josephine’s nimble fingers tighten a thin, single braid to frame her lover’s face, they discuss the plans for the long day ahead of them, from political alliances in the making to scouting far off lands and extending the Inquisition’s reach. As Leliana finishes fastening the other woman’s intricate up-do in place, they share a laugh over the memory of a recent report from the Herald, still wandering somewhere far and scarcely heard of.

“You should finish your work early today,” Josie suggests. She swipes a matching line of kohl along each of the spy master’s eyes. “Spend the evening with myself and the others. We can play a game of Wicked Grace in the tavern.”

“Darling,” Leliana sighs, gently brushing a golden paint along the brunette’s lids and cheeks. “I have too much to do. I didn’t manage to finish everything last night before I retired to bed.” After she finishes clasping the scarf around her head, a soft, concerned hand cups her face.

“At least consider it. We rarely have time to spend together anymore, but for these mornings.” The ambassador implores. In the glow of the sunshine, with the dust floating around her so gently, she looks as if she is a living painting, the portrait of an angel straight from the Maker’s side.

Leliana presses a kiss to Josie’s palm and reaches up to trace her hairline. She promises, “Of course, my love.”

They slip their toes into their respective leather boots and satin slippers. The redhead tugs on her gloves while the ambassador adjusts her jewelry, standing side by side in the vanity mirror. As they go to depart out the door along the stone battlements, Leliana steals one final kiss, a long press of their lips, cheeks warmed ever so slightly by the bright light streaming in through the curtains. They part minutely, eyelashes pulling apart in slow motion as smiles grace their features to the low hum of swooning birds and warm winds. In this brief instant, Leliana feels safe. Secure. Unshakeable.

She would trade anything for these mornings to last longer.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading!!!
> 
> come talk to me about dragon age @ [twitter](https://twitter.com/vividvalkyrie) / [tumblr](http://vividvalkyrie.tumblr.com/)


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